


Nobody's Business but Ours

by Stormlyht



Series: This Town That Loves Me [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: First Kiss, M/M, The Town Loves Derek, discovering, somewhere in season 2-ish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-18
Updated: 2014-02-18
Packaged: 2018-01-12 22:19:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1202617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stormlyht/pseuds/Stormlyht
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek was a first class, well loved Beacon Hills child when the fire happened.  Now that he's returned, he's found that everyone still loves him, and they seem to think that Stiles kid seriously did him wrong.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nobody's Business but Ours

**Author's Note:**

> Based on [THIS](http://akuneko42.tumblr.com/post/76624897036) Tumblr post.
> 
> Dunno, just battered around in my head. No beta, no reread, just put out there.

Derek had heard the argument between Mrs. Sherman and the sheriff when he’d been put in jail because of Stiles’ testimony about the half of Laura he’d buried. She’d argued that Derek was a sweet boy and would never hurt anyone. In a gust of amazing balls, she’d even told him that his son was probably more likely a culprit than Derek was and maybe the Sheriff should reconsider his position. Derek remembered her, he’d mowed her lawn every week for five summers. She’d been the first one to give him a chance and had told all her neighbors about who exactly, had been the boy to do the work.

Old man Arnold who played checkers outside the barbershop glared at Stiles now. Derek knew because they’d passed together once and he’d glared hard and heavy and Derek thought he was glaring at *him*. Only Arnold had looked right up at Derek and *beamed* at him, like he was the long lost son who’d finally returned home. Now, every week, just like he had as a boy of thirteen, he stopped by to play a few games with Arnold. The difference between Derek’s thirteen year old self and his twenty four year old self is that Derek can drop tens instead of ones into Arnold’s jar whenever Arnold beats him.

Cristy Miller’s mother was always a damn good lawyer but he was still surprised when she saw him across from her at the gas station and walked right over to him, offering him her card. “Just in case you decide to press charges on that little delinquent Stiles,” she had said, and Derek blinked down at the card in confusion. He had no plans to do that. None at all.

Even shopping was weird.

He was in the grocery store when he finally got more uncomfortable in town than he was in the burned out husk of his family home. At the time he was trying to decide between avocado or tomato to put on the sandwiches he was making for lunch. Then he heard the conversation.

“Took that almost drowned dog he saved right to the vet and stayed with him all night long, I remember, I still have the clipping from that story,” the one voice said.

“He also aced the spelling bee that year, not to mention the track records he broke. Such an academic overachiever. I’m sure he did well in New York, but I wish he’d fix up that house and stay here again. Find a nice girl, settle down. This town needs more good boys like him,” chimed in a second voice.

“I told my son to stay away from that terrible influence Stiles. I know he’s the sheriff’s son, but really, the sheriff lets him get away with everything. He should have a firmer hand in that boys upbringing, but no, not since Stiles’ mother passed away. Tsk, tsk.”

Derek couldn’t believe what he was hearing, and it made his ears burn in embarrassment. He was the topic of interest to the gossip crowd, and he wasn’t being looked down upon like he expected. More than anything he wished they would stop talking, it made things so much harder for him, because he really didn’t think he deserved their devotion. If they knew what he’d done…

“You know that Stiles’ even has that sweet McCall boy wrapped around his finger. I don’t know how he does it.”

“I saw our poor Derek talking to Stiles the other day. I wanted to shake my finger at Stiles and tell him to leave Derek alone, but I couldn’t think of a good way to do it.”

He chose the avocado and walked away from the old women singing his praises and badmouthing the little shit that Derek couldn’t seem to get away from. Derek just couldn’t deal with it anymore.

The problem was that Derek liked Stiles. He enjoyed being around the little fuck with too many hand gestures and a voice that should be grating but just soothed Derek inside in a way he couldn’t explain. More than that, he loved pushing the boy up against things, and feeling his heat under his body. The squirming was nice too, made Derek feel like he was still in control of something at least. Since he obviously wasn’t in control of his life for the moment.

He’d expected getting a pack would make people in town a little less interested in him, maybe be wary, but instead, they still seemed to sing his praises. John at the diner had given him a milkshake for all three of his beta’s when he’d only purchased one for himself. He’d winked and told Derek that he thought Derek was doing a good job, giving those kids someone who they could trust, when obviously the rest of the town wasn’t looking out for them. Derek had *tried* to pay, but the man had laughed and told him to get out of his store before they melted.

All three beta’s had been pleased, and now Erica sometimes goes down there to help John out. She said she didn’t really like waitressing, but she liked John, so Derek just shrugged and let her do as she wished.

When he’d been apartment looking, Susan Grambles had told him about her cousin who had a large loft that needed renting. She told her cousin, who rented him the loft at a price more reasonable than Derek expected. It was… odd, but Derek was starting to just roll with the strangeness. It wasn’t like the rest of his life wasn’t bizarre, why should the behaviors of the town be any different. Derek would have thought everyone was possessed, but he knew better. Besides, they didn’t *smell* possessed.

“Dude, do you know that Mrs. Barnes from down Oak Street told me that I should be groveling at your feet?” Stiles said by way of introduction when Derek climbed into his window one night. Derek tried to remember who Mrs. Barnes was. Ah right.

“The old woman with the pool?” Derek asked, and Stiles turned his chair around to glare at Derek.

“That’s the one.” Derek tried not to smirk, not to smile, not to… well, do anything that would piss Stiles off more.

“What did you say?” Derek asked.

“I told her that I didn’t need to grovel. Then she told me that accusing,” Stiles cleared his throat and took on a higher pitched voice. “Poor, sweet, abused Derek Hale,” he said, dropping his voice after that. “Of anything in the way of wrongdoings was just horrible and shouldn’t ever, under any circumstance, be done. I think she wanted to spray me with her water bottle.” He couldn’t contain it, the smirk came out. “Dude, this *isn’t* funny! I know her, this isn’t some random person I don’t know. What are you telling these people about me?”

“Nothing,” Derek said, keeping the laugh from coming out of his mouth at least.

“You have to be telling them something,” Stiles returned instantly, tapping his pen on his lips. Ah, distracting.

“I’m not,” Derek said, voice low. He wanted to take the pen away and replace it with his lips. It was a dark secret, but it made the pit of his stomach curl with anticipation.

“You *have* to be!” Stiles said louder, the pen getting tossed to the desk as he stood, knocking his chair over, and stalked over to Derek. “I mean I can’t imagine what else could possibly be making her so angry with me. And she’s not the only one! So you have to be saying *something*!”

He was right in front of Derek, and his cheeks had two spots of color on them and Derek just wanted to… he just… yep, he leaned down and claimed those lips, pressing himself against them, one arm wrapping around Stiles’ waist and pulling him close.

There was a soft “Oomph” noise from Stiles but he didn’t back away. In fact he put one hand on Derek’s shoulder and the other into the hair at the base of Derek’s neck and clung to him. Kind of desperately actually, fervently. The kiss deepened, tongue got introduced, and Derek walked Stiles backwards until he was pressed against the wall. Yeah. That was nice.

Bringing his knee up and between Stiles’ legs happened automatically, and the groan from Stiles was worth it. One hand slipped down Stiles’ side and he thought that all the grannies in town might hate Stiles right now, but Derek was the one misbehaving.

When they broke from the kiss, Stiles was still glaring. “Don’t think you can kiss me and make me forget how everyone in town is acting around me these days.”

“Go out with me,” Derek said, kissing Stiles’ cheek.

“Fine. We’re going to the diner, and you’re going to be sweet and tell John we’re on a date, and let him know I’m not a demon,” Stiles said, turning his head to let Derek reach his neck. That was… hot, so fucking hot, and Derek wanted to bite it. So he did.

“Okay.” He was going to take Stiles out on a date. Stiles had agreed to a date. Derek grinned and nipped again at Stiles’ neck.

“God,” Stiles gasped. “Good, good. Let’s do that.”

“Yeah.” Then Derek remembered why he was in Stiles’ room in the first place. “Stiles. I need to tell you about something.”

“Why am I getting the feeling that it’s not going to be about sex or making out?” Stiles groaned.

“Because it’s not.” Derek pulled away completely and Stiles sighed, straightening his clothes.

“You’re the evil one, not me,” he said, shaking his finger at Derek. “What is it?”

It didn’t matter what the town had to say about Stiles. What happened between him and Derek was nobody’s business but theirs.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know if you guys liked it enough to want more. I think I could form it into an actual plot or a series of one shot moments in time.


End file.
